Every Day Thoughts June
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favourite characters.
1. Jun 1

_A/N:_ _For Intro, please see Every Day Thoughts January._

Every Day Thoughts: June

_**June 1**_

**The better part of one's life consists of his friendships. – Abraham Lincoln**

Ducky smiled to himself as he watched Jethro leave his domain. It felt as though they had known each other forever.

He still remembered the first time they had met. He had been attending his first crime scene when an agent had appeared and started demanding information. The fact that they were standing on a very steep slope with the wind howling around them, threatening to send them both to their deaths, had not seemed to enter the silver-haired man's mind.

He had ended up shouting his preliminary findings over the roar of the wind. The questions yelled back at him had been impossible to hear; the wind was snatching every word. Eventually, Jethro had managed to indicate that they should sit in his car and talk.

With the wind rocking the car, Ducky had allowed himself some tea from his Thermos flask while the enigmatic agent had sipped at his coffee. Over their respective drinks, they had exchanged the necessary information. And then, with the Petty Officer safely in the van, they had parted ways.

At the time, Ducky had not realized how close they would become. After solving their first case together, their run of success had continued. They had continued to spend more time together, both in and out of the Navy Yard. They had shared stories, adventures, hopes and dreams, fears and follies.

He had no idea when they had crossed the line from acquaintances and co-workers to friends, but he knew they could never go back. And he did not want to.

He continued to smile to himself as he turned back to his latest guest. Jethro would find justice for her, of that he was certain.


	2. Jun 2

_**June 2**_

**There is no friend like the old friend,  
****Who has shared our morning days,  
****No greeting like his welcome,  
****No homage like his praise. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "No Time Like the Old Time"**

Tony woke up with a start.

First things first. He realized he had been asleep on his desk. He cast his mind back to try to remember what had happened.

They had been working on a case the day before, getting nowhere fast. Gibbs had taken his frustration out on everyone possible; Tony recalled trying to keep his head down as best he could. Nevertheless, Gibbs had been on fine form.

Which was why he had returned. Gibbs had ordered everyone to go home. Suspecting that his boss would leave shortly afterwards to sand his boat or pick up a redhead in a bar or shoot someone or whatever it was that would calm him down, Tony had deliberately gone to see Ducky. The Boss had vanished by the time he left Ducky's domain, giving him the chance to continue his investigation.

And continue he had. He had smiled at Ducky and then Jenny as they left for the night at their respective times. He had eaten Chinese takeout at his desk and stayed awake with the aid of coffee. But eventually his eyes couldn't take it anymore and he decided to have a short nap…

It took him a moment to work out what had woken him up. Gibbs was sitting at his desk, the only other person in the squad room. Tony immediately remembered all the times Gibbs had found him asleep at his desk.

He groaned as he realized he would have to get up. It was only 0530, but Gibbs would kill him if he went back to sleep.

"Morning, Boss," he grumbled. How could someone be so awake at this hour?

Gibbs arched an eyebrow in his direction.

"Got a lead," he recalled. "Blain was known to frequent a coffee shop two blocks from our dead body."

Gibbs nodded. "Not bad," he noted.

Tony couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. From Gibbs, that was high praise indeed.


	3. Jun 3

_**June 3**_

**You are there for me any time and for any reason. Our friendship knows no hour or season.**

"McGee! Get in here!"

Tim winced as he stepped off the elevator. Abby sounded mad. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to finish his sandwich before coming down to see her.

He crept into the lab, remembering the phone call that had summoned him here. She had sounded anxious, but he had put it down to her current stress levels. As well as being swamped with work, she was in the middle of a series of court dates. The Goth was terrified of court, on top of hating the outfit she had to wear.

He looked around, trying to locate her. But she was nowhere to be found…

"Ow!" He jumped into the air as something slammed into his foot. Looking down, he spotted Abby crouched under her desk.

"McGee," she whined.

He crouched down to her level. "What's going on?" he demanded.

She pointed upwards and he followed her finger. There was a tiny moth floating about her lab. He risked a secret smile, knowing that she hated them.

"Couldn't you just open a window?" Tim asked.

She snorted. "The windows do not open and have never opened," she pointed out.

He nodded. "I'll deal with it," he promised.

He spent the next ten minutes running around the lab, attempting to catch the moth so that he could let it go outside. Thankfully, Tony did not appear to catch him acting like an idiot. Finally, he managed to catch it within a mug.

Abby stuck her head out from under her desk. "Is it safe now?" she queried.

He smiled at her. "Everything's fine," he told her. "I'll release the moth and you can continue with your work."

She gave him a hug to thank him. He smiled again as he left. He would be there for Abby whenever she needed him.


	4. Jun 4

_**June 4**_

**You are forever changed when you find a true friend.**

Ziva often felt that her life had changed when she had met Tony.

Admittedly she had moved to America at the same time, which had also changed a lot of things. She had stopped working directly for Mossad, stopped running missions and killing people she had never met. She had found herself working with a group of strangers who had rapidly become her friends.

But there was something different about Tony. They fought like… what was the phrase? Kittens and puppies? He played pranks on her, she played pranks on him and they both played pranks on McGee.

And he had changed her. His awe at her abilities had made her realize that she was not normal, that she needed to change in some way. She still enjoyed creeping up on him to scare him senseless; she found it highly amusing.

He had also taught her to relax. She had been used to staying alert at all times and still had problems letting her guard down, but he had shown her that it was acceptable to rest. He had introduced her to watching movie marathons, sitting around and eating pizza for the sake of it, and the idea of taking some time for herself.

Yet she continued to struggle with allowing herself to care for people. She was too used to the people she loved dying suddenly, and thus she shut herself off so that it was easier. Tony had drawn her out of her shell.

She smiled to herself as she watched him sleep at his desk. She considered him a true friend.

But it would not stop her from emptying her water bottle on his head to wake him up.


	5. Jun 5

_**June 5**_

**Only your real friends tell you when your face is dirty. – Sicilian proverb.**

Jenny winced as her door almost flew off its hinges. Gibbs really needed to be taught to be nice to her precious door or he was going to end up with a bill.

She'd had a bad headache ever since the MTAC conference before lunch. Cynthia had been an angel and ran out for Advil. Jenny had found herself eating at her desk on her own, unable to leave her mountains of paperwork.

When she had turned to look out of her window, the bright sunlight had made her headache worse, as well as made her want to ignore her work for a while to go outside. She had wanted to act like a child again, but her responsibilities would not go away for any length of time.

And now Jethro was here, looking furious. Briefly, she wondered who had crossed him this time. It could be anyone, knowing as she did that some things set him off like clockwork. And she was always the one who had to clear up the mess.

He was still staring at her. She stared right back at him, not willing to let him win his little game. She was supposed to be his boss.

Finally, he decided to speak. "Some ZNN reporter is getting in the way of my investigation," he growled.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" she asked sweetly.

"Get him to back off," he demanded.

"Before or after you drill a hole through his kneecaps?" she grinned.

He smirked at her before heading to the door. With his hand on the handle but with the door still closed, he turned back briefly. "You have mayo on your face," he told her. And then he was gone.

Her hand crept up to her face, wincing slightly. But she was also smiling as well. Only Jethro would tell her if her face was dirty.


	6. Jun 6

_**June 6**_

**So long as we are loved by others I should say that we are almost indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend. – Robert Louis Stevenson, **_**Across the Plains**_

"What's the problem, McScaredypants?" Tony whined.

He glared at McGee, who looked incredibly nervous. It was clear that the Probie didn't want to be here. But Tony had decided not to take any chances, and deliberately had in his possession the car keys as well as McGee's cell phone and wallet. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get his hands on the gun, but he doubted McCoward would shoot him.

"It's a strip club," the Probie pointed out.

"And?" Tony countered. "I know you've never seen a naked woman before, but we need to ease you in."

McGee rolled his eyes. "We've been through this before," he complained. "Can we go now?"

"We haven't been inside yet!" Tony grinned. "And that's the whole purpose of our trip."

"You've had your fun," McGee objected. "And now I'm leaving."

As the Probie turned to go, Tony grabbed his arm. They scuffled briefly in the empty alley.

A car backfiring made them spring apart, each watching the other suspiciously.

"Cut it out, Tony," McGee warned.

Tony made to move towards the Probie again, and was heartened by him taking a cautious step back. "What's the problem?" he asked. "It's the female body."

McGee glared at him. "Give me the car keys," he demanded.

Tony dug them out of his back pocket and jangled them in the air. "What, these?" He acted as though he was surprised. "You'll have to take them from me first."

McGee raised an eyebrow before turning around and walking away.

"Where are you going?" Tony shouted after him.

"I've got a quarter in my pocket," McGee yelled over his shoulder. "And there's a payphone around the corner. I'm going to call Abby and ask her to pick me up."

Tony rolled his eyes. The Probie was such a boy scout. Maybe he should ask Abby to help him with his plan…


	7. Jun 7

_**June 7**_

**Old wine and an old friend are good provisions. – George Herbert, **_**Jacula Prudentum**_

Ducky smiled as he took another sip of his wine. It wasn't their usual tipple, but another medical examiner had given it to him and he was loath to waste it.

And anyway, it was very nice. He was tempted to buy some more of it when this bottle was finished. It would go very nicely with his carbonara.

He looked across at the other person in the room. Jethro was sipping his wine, looking a little confused. Ducky guessed that he was too used to bourbon to enjoy the full flavor of the wine. But he was still enjoying it in his own way and he wasn't complaining.

The silence between them was comfortable. Ducky had decided earlier that Jethro had been working too hard lately, and had practically forced him to come back for a decent homecooked meal. The other man had dragged his feet, but seemed to enjoy the meal and had insisted on washing up. Now they were settled in the living room, staring into the crackling fire.

He could not think of anyone else he would prefer to spend an evening with. Jethro did not believe in filling every available moment with nonsensical chatter. If they wanted to discuss something, they would. The rest of the time they would relax in the other's company.

The faint snores of his mother could be heard through the walls. It made him smile softly.

After a while, Jethro stood up. "Thanks," he offered.

Ducky walked him to the door. "I must get another bottle of that wine," he decided.


	8. Jun 8

_**June 8**_

**With girlfriends we dare to be who we really are.**

Ziva stepped onto the elevator, hiding her surprise when she saw Jenny already inside. The redhead wasn't quite as good at hiding her surprise, but stepped to one side and smiled warmly.

"Director," she smiled back.

The elevator jolted to life, and they traveled in a comfortable silence until Jenny moved forwards and flicked the emergency stop switch.

"Learn that from Gibbs?" Ziva smirked.

"I learnt a lot of things from Gibbs." Jenny returned the smirk. "Do you have an active case?"

Ziva shook her head. "Not at the moment," she answered, unsure as to where this was going.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" came the next question.

She shook her head again. "Find some form of food, be lazy. Nothing important."

Jenny smiled. "There's a movie on TV tonight – _Titanic_. Fancy coming over and watching it?"

Ziva frowned. "I am not sure," she admitted. "The last time I saw it, I cried."

The redhead chuckled. "So did I. But I have ice cream and a big box of tissues available."

The Israeli considered the offer. She did enjoy the movie and it would be nice to spend some time with her friend outside of the office. "I shall come over," she decided. "What time?"

When the elevator doors finally opened, the two occupants emerged smiling. Around each other, they could be themselves.


	9. Jun 9

_**June 9**_

**No receipt openeth the heart but a true friend. – Francis Bacon, "Of Friendship"**

Tim glanced up as Tony entered the squad room. He knew from experience that it was better to keep his head down. No use becoming an unnecessary target.

He sighed inwardly as Tony made his way over to him. Great. He was certain that he was about to be teased or mocked.

Tony might act like this around everyone, but Tim knew he was worse to him. He took comfort in knowing that Gibbs' mentor still treated him like an unruly irresponsible child. Nevertheless, he wished Tony would knock it off sometimes.

"Good morning, Probie." Tony greeted him with his usual huge grin on his face. "Did I ever tell you about my Great Aunt Mildred?"

"No," Tim admitted, wondering where this was going.

"Well, she's losing her marbles," Tony continued, rummaging around in his rucksack. "For some reason, she thinks today is my birthday and she got me a little present."

Tim still wasn't sure where Tony was taking this, but it made more sense when a book was placed onto his desk.

"_Computers for Dummies_," Tony announced. "I thought you'd find it more useful than me."

Ziva walked into the squad room, transferring Tony's attention from the book. But Tim was smiling. He knew Tony meant the present in a good way. It showed how much he cared.

He placed the book carefully in a drawer. He planned to tell Abby about this later.


	10. Jun 10

_A/N: It's my birthday today! Apologies for the brief appearance of Lily – I needed someone who could make Jenny relax a bit and I was careful to not let her take over. This is definitely Jenny's oneshot._

_**June 10**_

**You never laugh at me when I sing along with all my heart to a cheesy song on the radio. Well, okay – you laugh, but not much. Thanks for loving me, cheese and all.**

Jenny winced as the car shot through the traffic. She never planned to run this late again.

Anyway, it had all been her sister's fault. Lily had kept her up late with detailed tales of her latest exploits, making them both sleep through their alarms. Realizing she had to be in a meeting with the SecNav in fifteen minutes and her office being a full half an hour across rush hour traffic, Jenny had reluctantly let her sister drive.

She was fairly sure that even Ziva wouldn't run so many red lights. Lily seemed relaxed and unconcerned about her driving.

At least she had been allowed to pick the radio station. She grinned as a familiar song came on. Her grin widened when Lily began to sing along.

_This was never the way I planned  
__Not my intention  
__I got so brave, drink in hand  
__Lost my discretion  
__It's not what, I'm used to  
__Just wanna try you on  
__I'm curious for you  
__Caught my attention_

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" Lily queried. "Join in. It's just the two of us."

Jenny found she couldn't resist.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it  
__The taste of her cherry chapstick  
__I kissed a girl just to try it  
__I hope my boyfriend don't mind it  
__It felt so wrong  
__It felt so right  
__Don't mean I'm in love tonight  
__I kissed a girl and I liked it  
__I liked it_

Lily lurched onto the wrong side of the road to cut a queue, but Jenny didn't mind. She was too happy singing.

_No, I don't even know your name  
__It doesn't matter,  
__You're my experimental game  
__Just human nature,  
__It's not what,  
__Good girls do  
__Not how they should behave  
__My head gets so confused  
__Hard to obey_

Looking out of the window, she wondered if anyone else was doing this in their cars. She had never been more thankful that no one else was around; she was fairly sure that the Director of an armed federal agency shouldn't be singing to this song.

_Us girls we are so magical  
__Soft skin, red lips, so kissable  
__Hard to resist so touchable  
__Too good to deny it  
__Ain't no big deal, it's innocent_

Lily ignored a red light, leaving the sound of honking behind them. Ahead, Jenny could see the Navy Yard.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it  
__The taste of her cherry chap stick  
__I kissed a girl just to try it  
__I hope my boyfriend don't mind it  
__It felt so wrong  
__It felt so right  
__Don't mean I'm in love tonight  
__I kissed a girl and I liked it  
__I liked it_

Lily screeched to a halt and turned the radio down. "Need a lift back?" she asked.

Jenny shook her head and got out of the car, unable to wipe the grin from her face. That had been a lot of fun.


	11. Jun 11

_**June 11**_

**Having girlfriends means the difference between an ordinary event and an extraordinary event.**

Abby pulled Ziva along, darting past most of the shops. She knew the one she was looking for.

She stared in the shop window, coming to a halt so suddenly that the Mossad Officer's reflexes were not fast enough to prevent her from walking into the back of her. Abby yelped.

"Sorry," Ziva murmured, positioning herself so that she could see into the window as well.

The Goth smiled as she observed the shoes. So beautiful. And there was a sale on. What could be better?

Grabbing Ziva's arm again and trying not to work out the likelihood of the assassin killing her for all the manhandling, Abby dived into the store.

The displays were cute, the prices were cheap and, best of all, the place was practically empty. Although Abby did feel a slight pang of disappointment; she had been hoping Ziva would kill someone for a pair of shoes. She had her camera ready to record the event for Tony and McGee.

They browsed for a while, discussing which shoes were the best. Ziva seemed to have set her mind on a sturdy pair of boots, while Abby was taken with a nice pair of platform boots. Eventually, they left the store together, having purchased what they wanted.

They giggled as they walked along the sidewalk. It would have been fun alone, but it was definitely better together.


	12. Jun 12

_**June 12**_

**Praise, when used sparingly, retains an everlasting value.**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not one for praising people. As far as he was concerned, you either did your job or you failed. What was there to reward?

But there were other factors as well. Why was he the one who had to praise everyone? Being team leader meant that he was to lead the team, not praise them for merely doing their jobs.

And his team knew when they had done well, regardless of what he said. They were elated when they put another dirtbag behind bars. They were annoyed when someone slipped through their fingers, and learnt from their mistakes so that it would not happen again. Or they found another way to nail the same dirtbag. He did not need to praise them; they did it themselves.

Yet sometimes he did say those special words. With Abby, it was a lot of the time. She was liable to become visibly upset when he didn't and he loved her as his own daughter. She treasured every kind comment he made.

With the rest of his team, he was more cautious. When he praised them, it was because they had done something special, something above and beyond the call of duty. And when he said something, they treasured it forever. He was being cruel to be kind.

He smiled to himself as he looked at his team, all fast asleep. He was proud of them, even if he did not vocalize it.


	13. Jun 13

_**June 13**_

**The ornament of a house is the Friends who frequent it. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Domestic Life"**

Jenny smiled softly to herself as she stood in Gibbs' kitchen. She enjoyed poking around his house while she waited for him. He didn't mind; he never minded.

The kitchen was pretty bare. Cupboards covered two of the walls, a back door and a window took up another, while a few chairs rested against the fourth. She knew from experience that the cupboards had various canned foods inside and the refrigerator looked as though he was growing science projects inside. The man lived on takeout. The table was devoid of everything – no fruit bowl, no plates and no junk.

She wandered slowly into the front room. There was a little more furniture present, including a couch, a few comfortable chairs, a coffee table and a bookcase. Unsurprisingly, there was no television.

She didn't need to see the rest of his house to know that it was similar. Most of it had been decorated by his last ex-wife and he had simply left it as it was. And she knew why.

Gibbs lived in his basement. The rest of the house meant nothing to him; it was simply there for when he needed something such as food or a bed out of it.

Everyone visited him in his basement. They were the ornaments of his house. Almost everything he needed was down there.

She heard the front door open and made her way over to greet him.

"Basement?" he asked.

Hiding a smile, she nodded and followed him.


	14. Jun 14

_**June 14**_

**Two may talk together under the same roof for many years, yet never really meet; and two others at first speech are old friends. – Mary Catherwood, **_**Mackinac and Lake Stories**_

Tony stood in the elevator, Agent Wright by his side.

Agent Wright was an older agent who had been with the agency almost as long as Gibbs. He was not quite as stern as the boss – but no one could be as scary as Gibbs.

Tony had known Agent Wright for years, although he did not know his first name. They merely worked in the same building. Occasionally they would trade information regarding cases or exchange pleasantries when they ran into each other. But he certainly did not consider Agent Wright to be a friend. Sometimes they ended up as adversaries.

Tony stifled a sigh as the elevator reached his floor and he was able to step off. The silence in the elevator had been oppressive. He smiled as he walked into Abby's lab.

Immediately, a black blur attacked him, making him take a few paces back to steady himself. The Goth gripped him as though he had been away for years, when he had shared lunch with her barely an hour before.

"Abs," he groaned.

She let go of him, treating him to a heartwarming smile before bounding back to her precious computer.

"I met someone at the Caf-Pow place earlier," she told him, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Agent Peterson. He's just been transferred from San Diego and he is _so_ gorgeous."

Tony chuckled. "Am I going to have to warn him not to break your heart?"

She punched his arm lightly. "He's married!" she pointed out.

They continued to gossip, content to let time fly.


	15. Jun 15

_**June 15**_

**I have a friend, who sees in me  
****What none beside can see. – Phoebe Cary, "My Riches"**

Ziva watched Tony sleep at his desk. It had been a boring day and they were merely waiting until Gibbs sent them home.

McGee had vanished a long time ago to the comfort of Abby's lab. Gibbs was on yet another coffee run. She had nothing to do, no one to talk to, and thus she contented herself with watching her partner sleep.

Tony looked so young when he slept, like a little boy. The stress of the world left his face. She hated the snoring, but she could put up with it.

Her gaze rested on his closed eyes, reminding her that he could see so deeply into her heart. He knew she had a softer side, and every now and then he liked to draw it out.

She might act cold and uncaring, but he could see the vulnerability underneath. In the same way, she could see through his various masks to view his desire for praise. Somehow they were drawn together, two very broken people.

He shifted in his sleep and she found herself holding her breath until he settled down again. He was clearly tired and she did not wish to disturb him.

Gibbs appeared form the elevator, a new coffee cup clasped in his hand. Ziva observed silently as he paused to look at his sleeping senior field agent.

"Wake him up and go home," he ordered her, before heading towards the back elevator. Ziva suspected he was going to tell Abby and McGee the same thing.

She smiled as she looked back at Tony. Now, how to wake him up?


	16. Jun 16

_**June 16**_

**Friends provide the antidote that cures whatever ails us.**

Abby groaned after another coughing fit. At this rate, she was going to hack up a lung sometime tomorrow.

Agent Wofford had managed to give her a cold in the middle of summer. She was feverish and miserable. Ever the workaholic, she had refused to go home and rest until Gibbs had dragged her to his car, driven her home and tucked her into bed. She had enjoyed his over-protectiveness until he had warned her not to come back to work before Ducky cleared her.

At least she had been having company. Timmy had appeared on the first evening, treating her to his famous chicken soup. Tony had arrived on the second evening. Although he brought a pizza that she could not stomach, he had also provided a chick flick to make her smile. She wasn't sure whether she enjoyed the movie or Tony's bemused expression more.

A knock at her door before a faint scratching reached her ears. She could guess who this was.

Ziva walked through the door, tucking her lock-picking kit away. She was balancing a covered dish in her other hand.

Abby grinned, her mouth watering. The Israeli was a good cook, and she knew this would be something good. She sniffed the air carefully, cursing the fact that her cold meant she couldn't smell anything.

"Macaroni and cheese." Ziva answered the unspoken question. "I thought you might enjoy it."

Abby scrambled to her feet, desperate to eat. Ziva's food could cure all ills.


	17. Jun 17

_A/N: This was originally going to be completely different, but the 'emergency safety pin' part of the quote kept catching my attention. In my head, it's set at the start of Blowback but it could be anywhere._

_**June 17**_

**You can count on your girlfriends for everything – from an emergency safety pin to a middle-of-the-night pep talk.**

Director Jenny Shepard felt like screaming. Her day was going from bad to worse.

First, she had managed to sleep through her alarm clock, only being woken up by the sun filtering through her curtains. Her shower had decided to spit freezing cold water at her, but she hadn't the time to deal with it.

Owing to this, she had been late for an MTAC conference with the SecNav. And she had come to the wonderful conclusion halfway through that she didn't have a clue what he was on about, but she was going to have to kill Jethro the next time she ran into him. Honestly, did he really think he could get away with punching a Senator?

Back in her office, a huge pile of papers had decided to fall all over the floor, which had led to her spending twenty minutes picking them all up and sorting them out. Her coffee had jumped off her desk, staining her jacket. All in all, she was desperate to go home and put the day behind her.

And then, reaching for a bottle of bourbon on a high shelf, she felt her bra strap breaking. Cursing in every language she knew, she wondered how this could possibly get worse.

Cynthia had entered at that moment and given her a warm smile. Jenny couldn't help but smile back as her assistant darted out of the room to find an emergency safety pin. Perhaps her day was looking up…


	18. Jun 18

_**June 18**_

**Working out problems with a friend is a lot like working in the garden… it's hard work, but the result is beautiful.**

Gibbs sighed as he pulled more weeds from his flowerbed. It felt as though he had been doing this for hours.

The sun fell on his back as he continued to work in his garden. He had started off by cutting the grass and then raking it into one big pile. A smile had crossed his face at the thought of Kelly jumping into the middle of it, before he ended that thought rapidly.

Still, he was enjoying himself. His garden had been crying out for help for the past few weeks, but one case after another had taken him away from it. When he looked up and saw how beautiful it looked, he was glad that he had decided to deal with this today.

He smiled again as he recalled a discussion he had had with Ducky the day before. For a reason that neither of them had been able to figure out, they had been drifting apart recently. Ducky had sat him down for an hour in Autopsy, forced him to drink tea and they had both opened up to each other.

It had been hard work – Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't like opening up to anyone – but it had been worth it. They had parted company as the best of friends again, and Gibbs was sure they would continue to be so for a long time to come.

A solitary cloud meandered across the sky, making him smile again. For now, he felt at peace.


	19. Jun 19

_A/N: I wrote this before Aliyah..._

_**June 19**_

**No better relation than a prudent and faithful Friend. – Benjamin Franklin, **_**Poor Richard's Almanack**_

Ziva smiled at McGee as she joined him on the elevator. She was emotionally tired, but seeing her friend had lightened her heart.

She had just spent the past hour in MTAC talking to her father. He had been asking questions about an old mission she had once been on, one that she still counted among her few failures. The man they had been after had escaped, killing two control officers.

Her father had spent the hour demanding every little scrap of information she had learnt about their man. It did not matter that she had recorded everything at the time; he had been recently sighted and her father was determined to get him this time.

It had been a draining experience. Although her father had not spoken the words directly, it was clear that he held her responsible for what had happened. She wished he could trust her.

Her gaze turned to the man next to her. She did not have to worry about McGee. The man was faithful and loyal. She trusted him with her secrets; he would not even slip up to Tony.

He had an air of innocence around him, an air that she occasionally wished she still had. But then she remembered everything she had done on her father's orders and she shut that part of her mind down.

They stepped off the elevator together. As he sat down at his desk, she shot him another smile. She was proud to count McGee as a friend.


	20. Jun 20

_**June 20**_

**Good friends can talk together; great friends can dream together.**

Tim knew he was in trouble when Tony started being nice to him. Every time this happened, he began to panic. And so when Tony walked into the squad room and sent him a friendly grin, he wondered if he could run to the safety of Abby's lab.

He watched as Tony dropped his bag behind his desk before collapsing into his chair. With a bit of luck, either Gibbs or Ziva would reappear soon. Why did the Director have to call them away at the wrong time?

"I was listening to the radio on my way in," Tony smiled evilly. "Do you know what I heard?"

"You're going to tell me anyway," Tim muttered.

"Mr. Gemcity has sold the movie rights to his bestselling novel _Deep Six_."

Tim sincerely wished he had woken up ill that morning. "I need to see Ducky," he announced, rising out of his chair…

"Sit down, Probie," Tony ordered.

He did as he was told. Silence engulfed the squad room for a few minutes.

"Who's going to play me in the movie?" Tony asked suddenly.

"It hasn't even been written yet," Tim pointed out.

"I like Michael Shanks," Tony mused. "He'd do the job."

Tim privately thought that Sean William Scott was more likely to be offered the role, but kept his mouth shut. It wouldn't do for Tony to know that he was not only writing the script, but also having a say in just about everything.

"Hey," Tony wondered aloud. "I wonder who'll play Ziva in the movie."

They were deep in conversation by the time Gibbs and Ziva returned, but they focused on their work as Gibbs glared at them. Tim had no idea how they were going to find someone who could capture Gibbs perfectly. Maybe he should ask Tony for his opinion…


	21. Jun 21

_**June 21**_

**A ho-hum activity that's really fun when done with a good friend: grocery shopping.**

Ducky smiled as he pushed the cart through the aisles. It had been a long day, but he was enjoying himself.

Abby had decided that it would be fun to have a party after work. It wasn't for anything in particular – just to celebrate that they were all alive and breathing.

He and the Goth had finished their work earlier than Jethro's team so they had decided to go out and buy the food. It was strangely fun watching Abby dart about and drop random things into the cart. She was like a small child on a sugar high. Her obvious delight made him happy as well.

They passed an area with sugary drinks and Abby began to place odd bottles in the cart. He let her do what she wanted, although he was keeping a firm eye on any caffeinated drinks she added. If she had any more caffeine, she would start bouncing off the walls.

Their next stop was the ice cream aisle. Ducky found himself chuckling as Abby was clearly torn as to which flavors to go for. He had a feeling that Rocky Road would make the shortlist, as well as a different seriously chocolate option. And if coffee didn't make its way into the cart, he was prepared to eat his hat.

Finally they made it to the checkout. He smiled at the young girl on duty, while Abby randomly threw the contents of the cart onto the side. The cashier gave the Goth a weak smile before smiling more broadly at Ducky.

"Nice day out with your granddaughter, sir?" she asked.

Ducky did not bother to correct her. "A lovely day," he replied.


	22. Jun 22

_**June 22**_

**Friends Activity: Have a Potluck Pigout Party. Provide pizza dough and invite your guests to bring toppings. Or have a sundae party. You get the ice cream, they bring the decadent toppings. Forget about the carbs, don't count the fat grams, and eat like a kid again.**

Tony grinned as he opened his front door.

"McGoo! Come in!" he urged.

He watched as the Probie gingerly walked inside his apartment. Surely it couldn't be as bad as he expected? After all, he'd deliberately had the maid around that morning.

This was all Abby's fault. She had decided that they needed to spend more time together – as if they didn't spend so much time together at the Navy Yard! Still, it was hard to refuse the Goth when she pouted and suggested a pizza party.

Under her orders, everyone had to bring whatever toppings they wanted, while Tony provided the pizza bases. Even Gibbs and Jenny had been dragged into this, and Tony wasn't sure how his kitchen was going to cope with so many people.

He grinned as Abby came barreling out of the kitchen, running in the direction of his bathroom. What was his mistress of the night up to now?

He entered his kitchen to find smoke coming out of his oven. Cursing violently, he reached for a tea towel.

"Open the windows," he ordered McGee as he tried to waft the smoke away from the detector.

"I knew it was a bad idea to let Jenny anywhere near the cooking," he heard Gibbs mutter under his breath.

Thankfully, the food was still edible. They ended up watching a baseball game on his huge television, picking opposing sides and bickering the whole time.

It made Tony smile. He was glad to be part of this family, however dysfunctional it was.


	23. Jun 23

_**June 23**_

**There is pleasure in new friendships, comfort in old ones, and sweet memories to treasure in those we've lost.**

Tim ran into the squad room, aware that he was running late but unable to do much about it. Of all the times for his car to decide to die… His only desire was that Gibbs was not yet present.

Ziva shot him a knowing grin as he sat down, reassuring him. He enjoyed spending time with his new friend, however much the others had not warmed to her yet. She might have a cold exterior, but she was kind and generous.

Later in the day, he found himself in Abby's lab. They were trying to trace a money transfer, but it was proving difficult. They had one tricky criminal on their hands and they were determined to get him.

Abby was a comforting presence. He knew exactly where he stood with her. When he was down, she would cheer him up and when he was happy, she would celebrate with him.

That evening, he found himself alone in the squad room. The place was quiet and he found himself staring at Ziva's desk, imagining Kate there.

He missed his late friend. She had always had a smile for him and some friendly advice. And he had enjoyed the bickering that she had engaged Tony in. The memories made him smile.

As he finally left, he allowed himself to muse on his three female friends. They were all similar and yet different. But most importantly, he was proud to consider them friends.


	24. Jun 24

_**June 24**_

**Girlfriends hear what you mean rather that what you say.**

"Hi Gibbs!" Abby called over her shoulder.

"I'm not paying three alimonies," came a familiar chuckle in reply.

Abby spun around and was surprised to see Jenny standing behind her. "Director," she winced. "Sorry. But I found something and Gibbs always shows up when I find something, so I assumed you were my silver haired fox, but I should have figured it out because you wear heels and he is completely silent…" She stopped as she noticed Jenny's smile.

"I'm sorry for not announcing myself," Jenny grinned. "I'll try to remember next time."

"That's not what you're grinning about," Abby decided. "Do tell."

The redhead seemed to think about it for a minute. "You call Jethro your 'silver-haired fox'?" she finally queried.

Abby looked at her closely. "Yes. I mean he lives up to his role, and there's something about his silver hair that makes me go all tingly – aha!"

"What?" Jenny groaned.

"You agree with me."

The redhead's eyes widened. "What gave you that impression?"

"The way your eyes lit up when I was talking about his hair," Abby revealed.

"I said nothing!" jenny protested.

The Goth grinned. "You didn't have to. Are you going to deny it?"

Jenny seemed to struggle for a moment before bowing her head slightly. "I'll leave you to your work," she offered. "I'm sure Jethro will be along soon if you've found something."

Abby pouted as Jenny left, but was soon smiling again. She would have to face this conversation with Gibbs now…


	25. Jun 25

_**June 25**_

**Best friend, my well-spring in the wilderness! – George Eliot, **_**The Spanish Gypsy**_

Palmer glanced over at his mentor. Ducky was carefully examining an x-ray on the other side of Autopsy, and he had been left to continue with the external examination.

He was proud to call Ducky a friend. The other man had taken him under his wing, showing him everything that he needed to know to succeed in his chosen profession and a good deal more besides. He couldn't think of anyone better.

He often thought of Ducky as a fountain of knowledge. His expertise seemed endless and he was happy to give it away to anyone. He was a wonderful role model.

He knew everything, from how to estimate an age from bones to the history of America. He could search a small intestine with his eyes closed, as well as recite large portions of opera. There was no subject he was ignorant of.

Palmer had to admire him. There was no one quite like Ducky; so eccentric, yet charming, insightful and caring. No one could take a load off his shoulders with such ease and without judging him in any way. No one knew exactly when he was starting to tire, with the exception of his mentor who would either find some way to hold his focus or give him a break.

He found it strange. Most of his friends were around his own age, but Ducky was a whole generation older. And somehow they got on like a house on fire.

"Are we ready to begin, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky called across the room.

"Yes, Doctor," Palmer grinned.


	26. Jun 26

_**June 26**_

**Other blessings may be taken away, but if we have acquired a good friend by goodness, we have a blessing which improves in value when others fail. It is even heightened by sufferings. – William Ellery Channing**

"Hey, Probie! Over here!"

Tim sighed as he heard Tony's call. This was stupid. They were in the middle of nowhere, on a wooded steep hill, taking photographs of the various pieces of a decomposed body that a bunch of kids had thought it would be amusing to throw over a nearby bridge.

Despite all his experience and expertise, Ducky was struggling to get down to the necessary body parts. He was being forced to take his time, something that had annoyed Gibbs. Thankfully, Gibbs had decided that he and Ziva would be better off interviewing the wife than standing round like lemons.

"Probie!" came the frustrated yell.

"I'm coming," Tim shouted back. Did Tony know what patience was?

He was so deep in thought that he didn't spot a tree root. It took one mis-step for him to tumble halfway down the hill.

"Probie?" This time the shout was more anxious.

Tim forced himself to sit up, gingerly pressing a spot on his forehead. He was going to have a big bump later…

"I'm alive," he bellowed. "I think."

"Thanks goodness for that." Despite the flippant remark, Tim could hear the relief in Tony's voice. "For a moment, I thought I'd have to break in a new agent."

Tim rolled his eyes. Only just starting to realize how much his ankle ached. Had he twisted it or was it sprained? He tried to remember the differences between the two.

Tony crashed into the area around him, taking careful note of his injuries. "Anything really bad?" he asked.

"My ankle," Tim admitted. "Don't think I'm going to be able to walk out of here."

"Nonsense," Tony scorned, hauling him to his feet. "We'll make it together. Lean on me."

Tim groaned, but obeyed.

"Right," Tony guided. "Next stop, Ducky. How do you end up in these scrapes, McClumsy?"

Tim was grinning when he reached the top of the hill. He wanted to kill Tony for all his whining, but he couldn't have made it alone.


	27. Jun 27

_**June 27**_

**Your girlfriend always remembers your birthday, even though she has conveniently forgotten your age.**

Jenny smiled as Ziva entered her office, a box in her hands. At least this well-wisher cared about her birthday and was not trying to score brownie points.

She had a funny feeling that the box would contain a knife for her to add to her collection. She had already been able to predict some of her other presents: a bottle of bourbon from Jethro, a DVD from Tony, a box of chocolates from McGee and a pretty teapot from Ducky. Not that she minded being able to predict her gifts; it was the thought that counted.

It was surprising how many politicians were trying to get on her good side. She had flowers everywhere, of all different types, colors and sizes, as well as a small mountain of chocolate and jewelry. But none of them were personal, had any real thought gone into it. No one had managed her favorite flowers, although she had a sneaking suspicion that Jethro would place some in her study before she got home.

Ziva smiled at her and she gladly smiled back, placing her pen down and ignoring the case file in front of her.

"Happy birthday," Ziva told her, handing over the present.

Jenny's smile widened. "I'm hoping you don't remember how old I am," she admitted, not believing for a moment that the Israeli could forget anything.

"It has slipped my mind," Ziva lied.

"That's convenient," Jenny laughed. "Oh, a knife!" She did her best to look surprised as she picked it out of the box.

Ziva paused as she reached the door. "By the way, Tony has started a bet over how old you are, with no peeking in your personnel file allowed." And then she was gone.

Jenny continued to smile. She could go after Tony later. Still, she wondered how old her employees thought she was…


	28. Jun 28

_**June 28**_

**The magic of true friendship weaves a spell that never ends.**

The first time Abby had found something in her new role as Forensic Scientist at NCIS, she was not surprised that Agent Gibbs appeared out of nowhere. After all, she was the new girl and he was probably just keeping an eye on her.

For the whole of the first week, which had eventually become the whole of the first month, she had not worried about his mysterious appearances whenever she found something. She assumed it was normal in some way.

But one day it had clicked that something was different about him. Sure, he was more abrupt than the other agents. On the other hand, a kiss on the cheek and a "Good job, Abs" made everything good. However, she had noticed that other agents needed phone calls or emails to tell them that she had found something. And sometimes the other agents would wait for answers in her lab.

Not her silver-haired fox.

Whenever she got a result that he was waiting for, he materialized. Her first thought was that he had bugged her lab, but she had been unable to find anything. Then she wondered if she was sending out unconscious psychic vibes to tell him that his evidence was ready. To counter that, he started to show just before she got matches.

Her only conclusion was that he was magic in some way. She could not come up with another theory that explained his uncanny knack of appearing when she found something. He had magic in his veins.

She just wished he could send a little of his magic her way.


	29. Jun 29

_**June 29**_

**Happy is the house that shelters a friend! Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship"**

"I really cannot thank you enough."

"As I told you before," Ducky smiled at Timothy. "You are very welcome to stay here for a while."

He was happy to have someone other than Mother staying with him for once. Poor Timothy's apartment had been flooded by a burst pipe, so Ducky had not hesitated to offer him a place to stay while the damage was sorted. Hopefully it would keep the lad out of trouble.

Not that Timothy was the type to get into trouble, but he had a feeling that Jethro would have started reciting Rule 12 on a disturbingly regular basis if the lad had chosen to stay with Abigail.

Ducky didn't mind. If it made them happy. But in order to make his working life bearable, he needed to do something to appease Jethro. And he really would enjoy the company as well. They could discuss a myriad of topics, all of which would be better than Mother's wrestling.

He shuddered. He couldn't see what she enjoyed so much.

"Spare bedroom is the second door on the right," he called up the stairs, after the retreating form of Timothy.

Contessa appeared from the kitchen, cocking her head to one side.

"We have a visitor," he told her. "Play nicely with him. He's a friend."


	30. Jun 30

_**June 30**_

**No amount of time or distance can come between good friends. There is a bond that stays strong no matter the months or miles between two people who call each other "friend".**

For the third time in twenty minutes, Tony attempted to work out the time difference.

It was a pity that the McGeek was working with Abby. All he wanted to do was call Ziva. Preferably before Gibbs returned from his current confrontation with the FBI.

His partner had decided to vacation in Israel, to visit some of her family and catch up with old friends. Part of him had not wanted her to leave, but it had been quelled by her obvious happiness as the time drew nearer. He had smiled at her and wished her the best of luck as she had left.

And now he wanted to call her. Just to check that she was okay, mind. He refused to allow himself to miss her. After all, she constantly threatened to kill him in many painful ways.

Yet he found himself glancing over at her desk all the time. He bought Berry Mango Madness up to the squad room before having to throw it away – he couldn't stand the taste of it. He wished his crazy ninja Mossad chick was on hand whenever he questioned a suspect.

He tried again to work out the time difference. It was 1800 her time? What would she be doing? Eating? Dancing? Chatting to elderly relatives about the last person she had tortured? Learning new ways to kill people with office stationary?

His next job was to work out the dialing code. He knew she had written it down for Gibbs in case of an emergency, but he did not dare to touch Gibbs' desk.

It did not take him long to figure it out. The phone rang…

"Shalom?"

"Good afternoon to you too, Miss David," he grinned.


End file.
